Page 26 of Arch
I move fast, checking labels, snapping photos of shipping manifests with the burner.
One name stands out—Rico, a low-level Viper, but the manifests list him as a contact for a supplier we don’t know.
Could he be the link?
I’m about to dig deeper when a door slams, and footsteps approach. My heart jumps, and I duck behind a crate, holding my breath…
Two Vipers pass, one muttering about a “rat in the Riders” and a meet with someone called “the boss” tomorrow night.
I’ve got what I need, but as I turn to leave, my boot catches a loose pipe.Fuck. The pipe clatters, loud as a gunshot in the quiet, and the voices stop.
“Who’s there?” a Viper barks, and I’m running before I think, sprinting for the door as shouts erupt behind me.
I make it outside, but a hand grabs my jacket, yanking me back. It’s Rico, the guy from the manifests, his face twisted with rage.
“You’re fucked, kid,” he snarls, and before I can swing, another Viper clocks me with a pipe.
Pain explodes in my skull, and the world goes black…
I come to in a storage room, zip-tied to a chair, my head throbbing.
Rico’s pacing, a gun in his hand, while another Viper—a wiry guy with a snake tattoo—watches me.
“Wolf Rider’s boy,” Rico sneers. “You’re gonna tell us what Arch knows…”
I force a grin, my mouth dry.
“Don’t know shit, man,” I say. “I’m just the errand boy.”
My mind is racing, remembering every escape drill I ever ran.
The zip ties are tight, but the chair’s old, the armrest loose. I keep talking, playing dumb, while I work the armrest, feeling it give.
“You really think Arch trusts me with anything?” I laugh, trying to walk the line between genuinely seeming like I’m not connected and not provoking them. “I’m a nobody.”
Rico laughs, but he’s distracted, arguing with the other guy about calling “the boss.”
This is my chance.
It could be my only opportunity.
Fucking go-go-go!
I seize the moment, snapping the armrest free and using it to smash the wiry guy’s knee. He screams, dropping, and I’m on my feet, cutting the zip ties with a jagged edge from the broken chair.
Rico lunges, but I’m faster, slamming him into a crate, my fist connecting with his jaw. He’s outcold, and I’m running, dodging crates, my head pounding but my focus sharp.
I make it to the trees, find my bike, and peel out, the burner phone still in my pocket with the photos intact.
“Holy hell, that was fucking wild!” I scream as I ride away, full-throttle and with my heart feeling like it might explode.
By the time I hit the clubhouse, it’s past midnight, and I’m a mess—blood on my face, my hoodie torn.
Arch is outside, pacing, his face a storm of worry and fury when he sees me.
“Keegan!” Arch barks, striding over, grabbing my shoulders. “What the fuck happened? You were supposed to be in and out!”
“I got the intel,” I say, holding up the burner, my voice hoarse. “Rico’s the link. He’s meeting their supplier tomorrow night. I heard them talking about a rat in the Riders.”
